Puzzles
by she-never-missed
Summary: "So it shouldn't be possible, if I still lived, that Fred Weasley was dead." Against all odds, the legendary Weasley twins have been separated. After the death of his brother, George has to come to terms with the fact that he's left without Fred, and tries to face the world on his own without his twin at his side.


**So writing about the twins is something I've wanted to do for a while now, simply because I adore their relationship and their personalities, so here's my shot at it. This was done for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition, with the prompt of George greiving, and the additional prompts of the song 'Bring Me Down' by Miranda Lambert, the word 'jumbled', and the dialogue "I prefer my eggs sunny side up." I hope you guys enjoy it.**

**As always, reviews are a girl's best friend.**

**~Dani**

_"_ _And as I'm putting out the flame_

_Somebody brings up your name"_

~Bring Me Down, by Miranda Lambert

Sometimes puzzles fall apart. Someone can knock it off its shelf, or the pieces can just fade and crack. But the puzzle still works. You can brush it off and put it back together. That's what I always loved about puzzles; no matter how many times they fall apart, they can always become whole again. That is, as long as none of the pieces are lost. Because if one part of the puzzle is gone, the rest of it, the other half, will never be complete again.

First was the numbness, because someone so bright, so cheerful, so _alive, _could not possibly be dead. He and I, we never thought ourselves to be invincible, but in our minds, we were inseparable. We planned every scheme together, every joke, every prank. People stopped calling us by our first names, we were simply: 'The Weasley Twins,' and that was okay with us. We were more than just brothers, we were best friends, always together, never apart. So it shouldn't be possible, if I still lived, that Fred Weasley was dead.

They said he died laughing, and that it was a good way to go. They said that he was happy, and that he was fighting for what he believed. They said a lot of things to me, while I sat beside his body in the Great Hall. I couldn't hear them though, not over the weight of the world crashing down on me.

I wasn't sure how long I didn't speak for, a week after the battle at least. We went back to the Burrow, and I probably should have felt comforted to be home after living in Hogsmede for so long, but it wasn't the same. It was almost funny how the loss of one boy could make a whole house feel empty.

Mum was serving eggs for breakfast, like she did every Sunday. There was nothing really special about the weekend now, everyone was off work since the Battle of Hogwarts, but sometimes it's better to keep tradition. I sat down at my place, nodding thanks as Percy poured me a glass of water. Mum set a plate on the table before me, hurrying back to get the next one. I barely looked up at the steaming scrambled eggs in front of me before I felt the words rushing out of my mouth.

"I prefer my eggs sunny side up," I said, as calmly as I could, but my voice cracked in odd places, rough from crying and days of silence. "Fred liked scrambled eggs."

Just saying his name hurt, and the past tense of it made it even worse. The room froze at my first words since the battle, and at the meaning behind them. Mum turned to look at me, fresh tears springing in her eyes, and started apologizing profusely, running over to me."I'm so sorry, George," she said, "I knew, I just- I was trying to do everyone's and I just-" She cut off abruptly, not able to finish, "I'm sorry."

I only nodded, looking back into the faces of the rest of my family. Ginny looked on the verge of tears. Ron's hands were shaking. We ate the rest of the meal in silence.

Inside, I knew I wasn't being completely fair. My family was grieving too, but they carried on. They tried to help me, even though they were hurting too. And I couldn't even thank them without breaking down.

I was the first to leave the table, clearing my things and heading back to my room. The room that never used to be a lonely place, always full of jokes and plans and laughter. But laughing in this room, now with his bed neat and made up, untouched since so long ago, felt so wrong. As I looked around, my eyes landed on a children's puzzle, something Dad brought home from work a while ago, lying in pieces on the floor. If I squinted, I could vaguely make out an image of a little boy holding a balloon, but the pieces were too jumbled up for me to see it properly. Jumbled up, just like I was. Ironic how much puzzles seem to represent my life these days. I sat unmoving, just staring at the fallen toy, until there was a knock on my door.

"Come in," I said slowly, training my voice to speak again.

The door creaked open, and Ginny stepped inside. Her eyes were soft, but her lips were set into a hard line. "He wouldn't have wanted this, you know," she said, sitting down beside me and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

Part of me wanted to be upset with her for not being supportive, but the rest of me knew she was right. And besides, she was being supportive, just in her own way. Fred wouldn't have wanted me to sit here silently, the light and happiness drained out of me. He would have wanted me to carry on, for both of us, and live the life that we both should have lived.

"I've never met anyone else like you." She wasn't looking at me, instead watching the picture behind Fred's cupboard, the two of us riding our broomsticks together. "Parvati and Padma Patil are twins too, but they aren't anything like the two of you. You guys," she finally met my gaze, "You guys are special."

I wasn't sure why hearing that helped, but I knew Ginny was right. There is no one else like Fred and I. And there never will be. The world will never again see anything quite like the Weasley Twins. But that's okay, because legacies live on much longer than people do. Fred's legacy will live with me, and through the joke shop, which I now know that I can't shut down. That's one more piece that I can't afford to lose.

"I think you're right, Ginny," I said, glancing wistfully at her, "But first, I have a puzzle to put back together."


End file.
